The Twelfth Keeper Boxed Set: Books 1-3

by Belle Malory

  Phoenix nodded. The whole world thought the keepers belonged to them, were born to protect and serve humanity. He doubted anyone would take it lightly that one of them refused the job.

  Phoenix found it in himself to take one last look. He needed to glimpse her face, needed to know she’d be okay.

  Only her mother stood in the doorway, looking as if she finally understood the gravity of the situation. She stared out into the crowd, taking it all in. Reporters vied to ask her questions, but she answered none. The door shut and simultaneous groans rang across the yard.

  The crowd disappeared behind them as the car sped off. In all the times Phoenix had watched Mason break the news to the others, it had never turned out quite like this. Keepers knew what they were capable of, even if it was buried deep inside. They could feel their strength, could feel that they were supposed to yield it somehow. At one point or another, they had all admitted that they’d known they were different since birth.

  Phoenix remembered looking at the world and feeling this great design inside of him, as if he were responsible for everything he saw. Normal children didn’t feel like that, at least he didn’t think so.

  The twelfth keeper was supposed to be the wisest of them all, the most intuitive of them all. But the girl he saw in that house refused to believe what was in front of her own eyes. It didn’t make sense. She didn’t make sense.

  Ten

  Looking up at the stars that night didn’t send Kennedy into a dreamy haze. She stared out the window and resented the stars for what they’d done to her. One of those constellations up there represented the supposed twelfth keeper. Stupid stars. People should’ve stopped putting stock into them eons ago.

  The light on her brace flashed. Hunter. He waved from his bedroom window.

  Oh God.

  How was she supposed to explain this to him?

  Ignoring the call would’ve been a nice option—if he hadn’t already seen her. Kennedy lifted the brace to her ear. “Hey.”

  “You okay?” he asked.

  She shrugged.

  “It’s all over the news.”

  Kennedy winced. Fantastic. Getting through school tomorrow ought to be fun.

  “So,” Hunter said. “Is it true? Nothing’s been confirmed yet.”

  “It’s definitely not true,” she said. “They made a mistake.”

  “Hmm.”

  Oh sheesh. Kennedy could only speculate as to what that hmm meant. Hunter only made that noise when his brain was hard at work. She could practically see the wheels spinning from here.

  “Why didn’t DOE make a statement?” he asked her.

  She let a long, drawn out sigh escape. Skeptical questions from him were unavoidable, especially when it came to DOE. “They haven’t given a statement because they don’t know they’ve made a mistake, Hunt. Not yet, anyway.”

  He stared at her through the window, leaning against the frame. His brows were probably creased in the way they normally did when he was thinking. After a few seconds he asked, “So then, how do you know it’s a mistake?”

  “Hunter, come on. You know me. I cannot be the twelfth keeper. I’m not cut out for the whole government-sponsored superhero thing. I mean, come on. I freak out when a fly lands in my macaroni. There’s no way—”

  “Easy, Kenn. Take a breath. You’re starting to sound hysterical.”

  He was right. She took a breath and slowly let it out again, deflating. After a moment passed, she leaned closer to the window. “My mom is getting a lawyer.”

  “Sounds like a smart decision.”

  Let’s hope so. “She wants to prove I’m not the one they’re looking for.”

  “Makes sense. That’s what I would do too. See, Kenn, you’re freaking out over nothing. Everything will work out. Everything will be fine.”

  Hunter placed a hand on the windowpane. The shape of it reflected through the dark.

  She nodded, believing him. Holding her palm against the glass, Kennedy pretended his hand was right there against hers instead of a house away. “Do you really think so, Hunt?”

  “Of course,” he answered without hesitating. “Maybe not at first.” There was the honesty she appreciated. “But eventually it’ll blow over.”

  She had to admit his words made her feel better. “Thanks.”

  “For what?”

  For talking me through this, for helping me keep my sanity. “For,” she paused, “everything.”

  “No big deal. Hey, what are friends for, right?”

  “Right.” Warmth blanketed the fear in Kennedy’s chest, and for the first time since the people from DOE left, the world wasn’t spinning like a merry-go-round on crack. As far as friends went, Hunter must’ve written the book on them.

  After ending the call, Kennedy tiptoed across the carpet and slipped into bed. Reagan was fast asleep. She had always been a heavy sleeper, but Kennedy really didn’t want to risk waking her tonight. Earlier, Reagan had relentlessly questioned her about the people from DOE. The questions that bugged her, the ones that got under her skin, were the ones about Phoenix. Renowned Phoenix Jorgensen, ninth keeper, and the first ever to be found. “He was kind of beautiful, huh Kenn?” Reagan practically glowed.

  Totally. “Yeah, I guess so.”

  “Did he say anything to you?”

  “No.”

  “Nothing?” Reagan was wide-eyed, bouncing on the balls of her feet for the tiniest bit of information.

  Unfortunately, Kennedy had to disappoint her. “Nope. Nada.”

  And it was true, technically. He hadn’t uttered one word the entire time, now that she thought about it.

  All he’d done was look at her.

  Eyes as black as the night sky. That one look produced feelings in Kennedy that words alone couldn’t describe.

  The whole world turned black and white, fading into the background while the two of them remained radiantly colored. She’d never felt so alive before, never felt so complete.

  Yes, complete was the perfect word for it, even if it didn’t do the feeling justice.

  Still didn’t mean she was the twelfth keeper.

  It might have meant she found Phoenix Jorgensen alluring, incredibly so, in fact. Maybe she was starstruck or something. He was sort of a celebrity, as far as celebrities went. League-wise, he’d be sitting at the top, while she googly-eyed him from the bottom. Because come on, he was Phoenix freaking Jorgensen, a real-life Superman. And let’s face it, she was no Lois Lane. Just your average teenage girl. Medium level of cuteness, at best.

  And it was impossible to forget Phoenix’s presence in the strangest, sexiest, scariest dream she’d ever had. There was a little crush thing happening, sure. But it couldn’t have any more depth than that.

  Kennedy saw his dark eyes in her dreams, watching her again as they had earlier. His features softened as he stared. Long, dark lashes blinked, contrasting against his mussed blonde hair. She’d watched him swallow, his jaw flexing under some unknown truth. As if he felt the same incredible feeling she was experiencing.

  When Professor Mason asked him if she was the one, Phoenix nodded when he couldn’t possibly know that.

  Kennedy wondered about that until she drifted off to sleep. Of course, she hadn’t slept very well, tossing and turning all night long. Pitch black eyes haunting her dreams and whatnot.

  Every time she woke up, she found herself wishing she could finish the dream from the other night. Figure out what Phoenix was screaming at the end. It was only her subconscious, but…it sounded important. Coming face to face with the real Phoenix Jorgensen, the dream suddenly mattered more.

  Kennedy awoke groggy with a headache the next morning before the alarm went off. Reagan was still asleep in her bed. Unlike her sister, Kennedy had never been one to sleep like the dead.

  Coffee sounded so good she abandoned her comfortable bed to put on a pot. Her mom’s voice resonated from the kitchen. “Okay, great.” She sounded excited about something. “See you at noon. Bye.” Ashl
ey asked the wave-reader to schedule an appointment.

  “You’re not going to work today?”

  Ashley looked up. “Mornin’, Kenn. Didn’t realize you were up so early.”

  “Couldn’t sleep much.”

  “I’m not surprised, all things considered.” Heavy circles beneath her mom’s eyes proved her night hadn’t gone so well either. “Anyway, I told my boss what was going on and he gave me the day off. I’ve been scheduling appointments to meet with attorneys since I woke up. Already have three booked for today.”

  Impressive. “Sounds good.”

  “So do you think you’ll be okay at school?” Ashley leaned back in her chair, giving her the once over.

  “I’ll be fine, Mom.” Steaming coffee was already in the pot. Kennedy poured herself a mug full and stirred in vanilla soymilk.

  “You sure? I’d understand if you want to skip.”

  Sunlight streamed in from the kitchen window. Outside the sky was a clear blue, no clouds in sight. The front yard was an empty square of freshly mown grass. “No,” she said, after thinking about it. “I think the best route is to pretend nothing is wrong.”

  Ashley smiled, happy to hear that answer. “Good for you, baby. That’s the right attitude. Just stick it out, and everything will blow over.”

  Hunter had said the same thing. She hoped they were both right.

  ~ ~

  Not even an hour after she arrived at school, Kennedy found herself in the principal’s office waiting for her mother to come get her and holding an icepack over her split upper lip.

  Just pretend like nothing is wrong, she thought. Everything will blow over. Ha! What a load of crap that had been.

  The school principal, Mrs. Bickens, stood by the door, hands crossed over her chest and tapping her foot. Amusingly enough, she was there waiting to admonish her mother, not Kennedy.

  She started in on Ashley the moment she walked through the door. “How could you even think of letting her come here today?”

  “I know, I know.” Her mom’s hair stuck out everywhere, making her look more frazzled than usual. “Where is she?”

  Principle Bickens tipped her nose in Kennedy’s direction.

  “Hey, Mom.” She lowered the ice pack, pointed to her bloody lip, and said, “Our plan didn’t work out so well.”

  “Oh my God.” Ashley ran over and lifted Kennedy’s chin to inspect the damage.

  Principal Bickens cleared her throat. “Some bullies got a hold of her,” she explained. “I think they assumed Kennedy would have super human strength.”

  Bullies was putting it rather mildly. First, the whole damned cheerleading squad had antagonized her, calling her names and throwing things during the walk to first period.

  As if that wasn’t bad enough, the biggest, most testosterone-infested meathead in the entire sophomore class felt he had something to prove by challenging a mighty keeper—as he’d labeled her. The biology teacher had to pull the guy off her. On top of that, all the students in her first period seemed disappointed, as if they were waiting to witness Kennedy mutate into a monstrous green beast and break walls with her fists or something.

  “Who did this to you?”

  “Kids,” Kennedy answered, shrugging. “You know how they can be.”

  Ashley pursed her lips and gave her that look. But Kennedy didn’t dare name names. Knowing her mom, Ashley would head for his classroom to rip him a new one as soon as she said the meathead’s name. And after, she’d hunt his parents down and let them have it too. Not saying he didn’t deserve it, but Kennedy wasn’t up for any further humiliation. This was, by far, enough for years to come.

  Principal Bickens reached for a stack of papers and Kennedy’s tablet and then pushed them into her mom’s hands. “I took the liberty of talking to Kennedy’s teachers. For now, she’ll work from home. Until this is all sorted out, anyway.”

  “We appreciate that. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome, Mrs. Mitchell.” The principal turned towards Kennedy, resting a light hand on her arm. “I’m sorry for today, dear.”

  “It’s okay.” Kennedy lugged her backpack over her shoulder, ready to leave, but Principal Bickens stopped her again.

  “I just wanted to say, in case it’s established that you are the twelfth keeper, well, I wanted to wish you all the best.”

  “Um…thanks.” Congratulations were so not in order.

  “It must be exciting.” She smiled with her eyes all aglow, like Kennedy hadn’t just been beaten up. “The prospect of going to Olympus and living in the Neon City.”

  “Not really,” Kennedy replied. “Since I’m not going there.”

  The principal’s smile faded into a frown. She looked up at Ashley, but if she was expecting some sort of argument, she didn’t get one.

  The principal chuckled, mistaking it for a joke. “Dear, if it’s proven that you’re the twelfth, wouldn’t you want to go to Olympus and live with the other keepers?”

  “What for?”

  Ashley’s elbow thrust into Kennedy’s back, steering her out the door. “Time to go.”

  “Now hold on just a second,” Principal Bickens said. “Mrs. Mitchell, your daughter does have plans to go to Olympus, doesn’t she? If it’s proven that she’s the twelfth? I mean, you’ll make her go, right?”

  Kennedy’s jaw dropped. Seriously, where did her principal get off saying this to her mom? Telling her how to live her life?

  “That’s something we have to discuss as a family,” Ashley said. “And I’m so sorry, but I’m late for an appointment. Gotta run.”

  Her mom waved goodbye as she continued to shove Kennedy out of the office and towards the school parking lot. “Kenn,” she said, keeping her voice low. “You can’t do that.”

  “Why not? We’re all entitled to our choices.”

  “You don’t understand. People expect certain things from the keepers.”

  “I don’t care what they expect. She had no right—”

  Ashley stopped, facing her. “Doesn’t matter. She thinks she has the right. That’s why it’s important for us to prove you’re not the twelfth. Until then, you need to keep your mouth shut.” She gripped Kennedy’s shoulders. “Do you understand me?”

  The desperation in her mom’s voice startled Kennedy. She’d never seen Ashley act so out of her element. Sure, there’d been times when she’d been really stressed, but this was different.

  “Do you understand, Kennedy?” Ashley’s eyes bored into her, begging her to answer.

  Kennedy nodded.

  “Good.” Ashley sighed, her shoulders relaxing. They headed towards the van in silence.

  Kennedy knew this whole keeper thing was a big deal. She really did know that. It was just, well, how had the psychologist put it after her dad died? She deflected difficult situations by minimizing them. When things became too much to handle, she’d escape inside her head, withdrawing into fantasy or delusions.

  But until that moment, she never realized that maybe Ashley was breaking down. She’d already gone through so much, losing her husband and working extra jobs to provide for their family. What if this extra stress was the push that sent her mom over the edge?

  Kennedy didn’t want to be responsible for that.

  Eleven

  Kennedy was trapped in the week from hell. Neighbors and onlookers consistently passed by her house, hoping to catch glimpses of the “supposed” twelfth keeper, making it impossible for her to step outside. The television wasn’t even a viable distraction since she often found her face on it.

  What an awful picture they kept showing, too. Ninth grade yearbook photo. Her hair had a mass of bright blue highlights—an experiment gone terribly wrong—and braces corrupting her teeth, making her mouth look much wider than it was.

  Eh, she’d gladly offer them a different photo if it meant they’d stop spreading that one all over the news.

  Hunter and Kennedy had watched a reporter interview Ava Penbrooke, class president and head c
heerleader at their school. “Of course I know Kennedy! We’re like best friends.”

  Hunter’s face morphed into the same look of horror he had when his grandmother gave him bum-enhancing undies for Christmas. “Have you ever spoken to that girl in your life?”

  “Yeah,” she replied. “In Algebra. Last year. I believe she asked if she could borrow a pencil.”

  “Wow.” Hunter shook his head. “Just wow.”

  The news on television never got any better either. Just worse. So much worse. Kennedy tried not paying attention to it, but it was inescapable. They were always talking about her, day in and day out.

  Reagan was watching TV the other night and Kennedy heard the Channel 9 reporter announce, “DOE has yet to confirm whether or not Kennedy Mitchell is the twelfth keeper.” Yeah, like that was going to happen. “However, inside sources have claimed the sixteen-year-old refuses to cooperate with government officials. Does this mean planet Earth will not be able to count on the cowardly keeper? More to come.”

  Her heart hammered in her chest; Kennedy resisted the urge to burst into tears. She wondered for a few unbearable moments if she’d heard the reporter correctly.

  Cowardly keeper. They’d actually referred to her as the cowardly keeper.

  She bit down on her lip, hard, squeezing her eyes shut.

  No, she wouldn’t believe that. She simply wasn’t a keeper, cowardly or otherwise. Those reporters didn’t know what they were talking about because they didn’t know the whole story. They didn’t know the truth.

  God, how she wished they’d find the real twelfth already. It would prove she wasn’t the one and they were all wrong. Then maybe they’d finally leave her alone. Then maybe life could go back to normal.

  ~ ~

  By the end of the week Kennedy felt a little better. She still couldn’t walk outside without people stalking her, taking pictures, or pointing, but that didn’t matter. The future was looking brighter.

  Mostly this was due to the attorney who agreed to take on her case pro-bono—a word she discovered meant absolutely, one hundred percent free, and now her mom would have one less thing to worry about. The attorney took them on because of the popularity he would gain from such a high profile case, but she didn’t care. Free was free in her book, and that guy was supposed to be one of the best.